


Waxen Bird

by CorditeTea



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Gen, Hints Of Blood/Gore, I Don't Even Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 16:43:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorditeTea/pseuds/CorditeTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble set between the ticks of clock hands, and the dust of a weary soul...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waxen Bird

‘Blood for memory.’ It was ironic she supposed. Red for warmth, sunshine, butterflies (that flapped in her stomach their wing keeping rhythm with her pounding heart) and red for death, screams, and the flames of Ishbal. 

He was sitting, golden eyes shifting restlessly, searching for each change no matter how minute. Metallic toes drumming on the wood floor boards, he looked every where but at her - knitting wires and screwing joints, the melted wings of a waxened sinner. 

“Where’s your blue wiring book gone?” _the one I sent you - in the colour of your eyes._  


She paused, _under my pillow_ “G-gosh, I don’t know Ed! Probably in my room - it’s not like I keep track of them all! Now shud-up, I‘m trying to concentrate.” 

The silence felt thick, almost visible in the afternoon sunlight, that stamped through the room in window patches, glinting of Den’s leg as he sprawled on the floor. With a sigh he glanced at her, Winry. Her blond hair luminescent, her skin soft and pale, dipped and streaked with grease, yet so lovely. 

She could feel him staring, prickling intensity on the back of her head as she intensely studied his automail - no longer able to bare the silence she lifted her eyes in plea. Blue met golden - only to skuttle away. 

“Whats this for?” 

“Don’t thats -!” 

Too late, it was just a piece metal plating after all - but it was a spark to oil.

“Ouch! Why didn’t you tell me it was sharp!?” 

There it was a, thin trickle of memory pounding madly into flood. _Help him! Help him!_  It was everywhere, everywhere but where it should have been. She remembered the hammering on the door, thought it was a customer, or a friend caught in the rain, not a nightmare. The fierce armor suit smothered in blood, echoing Al’s frightened voice as he held what was left of Edward Elric. _You have to help him - please!_  

Her scream pierced the air before she recognized her voice. Then he was shaking her, speaking syllables with no sounds “..inry, Winry!” 

The careful facade replaced by taunt skin of worry - she wondered _‘ was that how Al would have, should have looked?_ ’

“You were bleeding…ev-ery-where” her teeth lock as those blue orbs dance, looking anywhere but the fiery eyes that study her with understanding respect and ….love? They were friends after all. 

Hands enfold her - butterfly light against her trembling curves as a sulphuric rain of tears scald his skin - clawing at his insides - breathe - breathe - breathe. 

The air razor -carves her name circling through his lungs. 

He breathes and the sun smiles such foolish little birds. 


End file.
